


Seeing Other People

by Bullfinch



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Aftercare, Dominance, Multi, Open Relationships, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Submission, Trans Fenris (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29541054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bullfinch/pseuds/Bullfinch
Summary: Fenris decides to try some new things. He does so by fucking his way across Skyhold.A series of vignettes. Tags will be updated as more chapters are added.
Relationships: Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Fenris, Fenris/Male Hawke, Fenris/Vivienne (Dragon Age)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Krem

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my most polished work, but in my defense: I was horni
> 
> ICYMI Fenris is trans. Also, fyi, dom/sub themes start showing up pretty quick next chapter. Fenris gets a lil bit of both sides of the action

They’re sitting in the Herald’s Rest when Fenris finally decides to bring it up.

The place is bustling with activity. Most of the tables are occupied with parties celebrating the Inquisitions’s showing at Halamshiral, and he and Hawke have managed to mash themselves into a corner with their steins of ale. Across the room a burst of uproarious laughter issues from the ongoing card game (Wicked Grace, Fenris thinks, and considered joining but doesn’t wish to embarrass himself among such skilled players; perhaps later when everybody, himself included, is drunk).

“You’re slow to get started.” Hawke tips back his mug, draining the last of the ale. Fenris has barely touched his own. “Something on your mind?”

Fenris drags his gaze away from the game. “Er—yes, actually.”

Hawke sets the mug down. “What is it?”

How to start? “Do you remember the Tal-Vashoth company we sailed with earlier this year?”

“The Sea Eagles? Of course. Never seen naval skill as sharp as theirs.”

“Yes. And do you remember…the rest?”

“You mean the part where they all fucked each other every single night and we had to either lie awake listening to the entire boat creaking around us, or join in, so we joined in?”

“It’s a ship, not a boat. And yes.”

“Yes, I do.” Hawke rests his chin in his hand. “What about it?”

Fenris thought he would have some segue in mind by this point but he does not. “I think…I would like to sleep with other people.”

Hawke replies with silence. Fenris realizes his mistake. “Not in place of you! In addition to you.”

Hawke’s shoulders collapse in relief. “Maker’s balls. My heart stopped.”

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing at all _wrong_ with you—quite the opposite, in fact—I just…”

“Fenris, it’s fine. I love you, and I know you love me. If you want to go have yourself a good time, don’t let me get in your way.”

Hawke leans over and kisses his cheek. Fenris smiles at the table. “Thank you. I apologize for frightening you.”

“Not at all. But if it ever _is_ me…”

“I’ll let you know, I promise,” Fenris says. “And, if anybody else here catches your eye…”

Hawke leans back and sighs. “Well, a lot of them are very good-looking, but I haven’t much interest in sleeping with anybody.” He frowns. “Except maybe…”

“The Iron Bull.”

A sheepish grin blossoms on Hawke’s face. “You could tell?”

“Mm. From afar I see you gazing at each other and I’d swear you’re making plans for a vigorously romantic evening, yet when I approach you’re talking about supply lines to and from the Mire.”

Hawke rubs his face. “Listen, you’ve seen his arse.”

“Yes.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Of course not. We shall see who gets to him first. If he’s in the mood, that is.”

“Well, he looks at you the same way I look at him, so I’m fairly sure he’ll take you up.”

Speaking of amorous gazes, Fenris finds that indeed Krem is taking part in the game of Wicked Grace, although once again his attention seems divided, and as Fenris’s eyes meet his he reddens and jolts back sharply to his hand of cards. Such occurrences have been commonplace these weeks at Skyhold, and Fenris decides that perhaps it’s time to offer some resolution.

——

“Coming—coming—“

Fenris’s back arches as Krem sucks at his cock, but the grip on his thighs is iron and his cock remains trapped in Krem’s skilled mouth. He gasps, hips thrusting in the air, grinding against Krem’s face. The suction—too strong, and he brings a fist down on the bed and throws his head back as his body writhes. But nothing dissuades his merciless partner.

At last the orgasm begins to dim and Fenris pushes himself up on his elbows, breathing hard. Krem sits back at last and wipes his mouth. “Fuck. That was amazing.”

“Yes,” Fenris manages. His second climax, drawn from him just a short time after his first. His cock feels swollen, his cunt radiating heat. “Perhaps—a short break—“

“Please, just one more?”

Fenris meets Krem’s eyes over the plane of his own body, his skin glistening with sweat. The Inquisitor furnished him with one of the finest rooms in the keep—likely as a ploy to keep him and his lyrium brands allied with the Inquisition, and he has made no complaint. But the windows face east, and in the late morning, as now, the room is quite warm. Krem, kneeling at the foot of the bed, is sweating as well, his muscular arms and shoulders gleaming. He gazes up entreatingly, still holding Fenris’s thigh in a loose grip. “ _Just one more,”_ the very same words he used after the first climax. It is obvious he had other plans in mind. Yet his starry-eyed expression is difficult to deny.

Fenris nods at last. “F—fine,” he says. “One more.”

Krem’s arm locks around his thigh as he leans in, and Fenris’s cock, the mere seconds of relief hopelessly inadequate, lights up with unbearable pleasure. Far too sensitive in the wake of his recent climax, and Fenris whines, his fists balling in the sheets again.

Krem wastes no time teasing. His lips form a tight seal around Fenris’s cock, and he laves the tip with his tongue. Fenris feels fingers at his entrance again, and he moans helplessly as he’s opened up. Three fingers, but two climaxes have relaxed him so much he hardly feels the stretch. They curl and Fenris cries out; his hole has been pounded and plundered already this morning and the dizzying pressure makes him simultaneously want to pull away and to come again, to chase down his last orgasm before it’s fully left him.

“Fuck,” Krem breathes. “You’re so... _soft_ inside. I wish you could feel it.”

Maybe if he keeps Krem talking he can save his cock the stimulation. “You have—nngh—“ The fingers stroke his inner walls, exploring him. “You have made me come twice, I am— _nnh_ —“ The fingers, plunging back and forth now, and his hips jerk weakly.

“It’s all right, you don’t have to say anything,” Krem reassures him. “Just lie back and let me do all the work.”

Which is exactly the problem, and Fenris is about to protest when Krem starts sucking his cock again and he must hold back a shout.

His partner shows no signs of slowing; instead he seems even more intent on bringing Fenris to orgasm at speed. His lips capture and squeeze Fenris’s cock, and his tongue laps at it, nudging back the hood and swirling it deftly. He pumps back and forth in an unrelenting rhythm, and Fenris can hear the lewd, wet sounds his hole makes as it sucks in Krem’s fingers. Too much—the friction at his entrance, the pressure on the spot inside him that makes his knees weak. “Krem,” he tries. “In—inside me—it’s—“

“You got it,” Krem says, and withdraws. A moment of blessed relief, and Fenris thinks he might survive the next orgasm after all when something brushes his entrance again and then pushes inside him.

 _Now_ he feels the stretch, because that must be four fingers breaching him, straining his entrance wide. He cries out and sits halfway up, and his hips jerk forward as his hole tries to swallow Krem’s questing fingers. “Fuck me,” he pleads, barely aware of what it means for his overstimulated body, only knowing he needs more of that heady stretch.

Krem obliges, driving into him with the strength and relentlessness of a seasoned warrior. The heat gushes from his well-fucked hole, and suddenly the suction on his cock isn’t torturous anymore but pleasurable. He braces himself on the bed, rolling his hips into Krem’s face.

It doesn’t take long, between the recent climax priming his hole for another and Krem’s unwavering ministrations. The orgasm starts from his cock—it throbs against Krem’s tongue, and Fenris slumps back on the sheets, thrusting helplessly as he clenches around Krem’s fingers. Still he receives no relief from the relentless pounding, and whenever he thinks the orgasm is over Krem’s tongue stokes it again.

Only after many long seconds does he collapse to the bed, spent. “Please,” he nearly sobs. His cock is unbelievably sensitive, and his legs twitch and shake as Krem continues to lap at it. “Please, I can’t.”

At last Krem backs off, pulling his fingers from Fenris’s weakened entrance. He sits back on his heels, apologetic. “We have been going a while, haven’t we? Sorry, you probably need a moment.”

 _A moment?_ Fenris tries to sit up again. It’s hard; he can barely feel his legs, and his cock and cunt are tingling and feel red-hot. “Wait,” he says desperately. “Perhaps—why don’t I return the favor instead?”

Krem’s face brightens. “Really? You—you’d do that?”

“Well, of course.” Fenris drags himself to the edge of the bed. “Come, lie down.”

Krem’s cunt is half-hidden amongst a bushel of copper hair, but his cock stands out, thick as a thumb. Fenris goes to work, lying on his stomach between Krem’s legs. To either side a brawny thigh tenses and relaxes when Fenris hits a particularly sensitive spot, and Krem murmurs curses under his breath. The sharp smell of sweat fills Fenris’s nose, and he wishes briefly he could see it, the way Krem’s toned body glistens in the light through the window; but he is otherwise occupied.

“Oh, yeah,” Krem breathes. “That’s it. That’s it.”

Fenris slides two fingers inside him and finds them swallowed eagerly by Krem’s muscular cunt. Despite not being touched earlier, Krem plainly enjoyed wringing climaxes from his partner, as his walls are slick with arousal. Fenris endeavors to treat him with the same fervor, wasting little time before beginning to fuck him hard and fast.

Krem lets out a guttural growl, thighs tensing. His cock is fat and firm in Fenris’s mouth, and Fenris bobs, sucking at it steadily. His efforts bear fruit; Krem lifts his hips into the air and fucks against Fenris’s mouth. Every thrust plunges him down again on the fingers penetrating him, and he takes them easily to the knuckle on each descent. The power behind his rhythmic movements is undeniable, and Fenris struggles to keep up, to hold his lips sealed around Krem’s cock. But he will not be dissuaded; after what he’s just been through, Krem deserves a comeuppance. He swirls Krem’s cock and drags the flat of his tongue up the underside, working the entirety of the stiff organ locked between his lips.

“Fenris,” Krem gasps. “Your fucking mouth.”

Fenris breathes through his nose, devoted to servicing his partner’s cock. But Krem’s hole needs attention as well, and he curls his fingers, stretching the slippery walls that squeeze and flutter around him.

Krem shouts, and his body bucks. _“Fuck,_ Fenris! Fuck me!”

He obliges, dragging his fingertips over Krem’s muscular walls. The curses from the head of the bed tell him Krem is close, and Fenris sucks and laps at his cock, hoping in the back of his mind the orgasm is half as intense as the ones he himself has endured thus far.

Then Krem gasps, “Fenris, let me fuck your mouth,” so Fenris withdraws his fingers and Krem grabs the back of his head and goes to work.

His cock pops free and instead he grinds his cunt on Fenris’s tongue. The nearness of orgasm has transformed him from a deferential partner to one much more demanding; his powerful hips pump at an urgent pace, and with each thrust he drags the whole length of his folds, from his leaking hole to his stiff cock, over Fenris’s flattened tongue. Fenris remains trapped where he is by Krem’s iron grip, and it’s all he can do to on for dear life through the rough fucking.

Fortunately it isn’t long before Krem grunts out, “Fuck—I’m going to come all over you—FUCK!”

It isn’t hard to tell when the orgasm strikes, as Krem’s hips, previously moving with a steady rhythm, begin to buck wildly in the air. Fenris, helpless, is dragged along while his mouth (and, indeed, most of his face) is used to pleasure Krem’s pulsing cock. Wetness smears over his mouth and nose, and Fenris sucks in breaths in what little space he is given, inhaling the scent of Krem’s hole.

At last the hand at the back of his head disappears and Fenris can surface for air. He sits back on his heels and almost falls over, wiping his mouth in a daze. Yet as soon as his breath has returned he finds Krem kneeling before him and kissing him deeply.

Fenris returns it and circles an arm around Krem’s back. The skin there is drenched with sweat but firm under his fingers. Is there any part of the man that isn’t pure muscle? Meanwhile, Krem seems to have a different idea and grabs Fenris’s ass with both hands, dragging him forward. Fenris lurches a moment and then finds himself resettled with his cunt sitting on Krem’s powerful thigh.

Krem’s tongue tangles with his again and Fenris leans into it, their chests pressing together—the only part of his partner with any softness, it seems. He rocks forward to feel Krem’s chest on his own, kissing him ardently.

Then Krem squeezes his ass with both powerful hands and Fenris lets out a wanton moan into his mouth. Reflexively he arches his back into the hard grip.

Krem leans away a bit and grins. “Still up for a bit more, are you? I felt you gush against my leg when I did that.”

Fenris is about to attempt a protest when Krem squeezes his ass a second time and he tips his head back and moans again. His hips move of their own volition, and his cunt grinds against Krem’s muscular thigh.

“Hold on a moment.” Krem picks Fenris up and moves him back, then goes to the pack he’d dropped on the floor when he entered. Idly Fenris plays with his cock. It is, indeed, traitorously hard again.

When Fenris looks up Krem is holding a harness attached to a phallus-shaped toy of daunting proportions, although considering he had four fingers in him not long ago, it is well within the realm of possibility. “Just one more?” Krem says, a pleading look on his face.

Fenris groans weakly, lays back on the bed, and spreads his legs.

It is, as he expected, _not_ one more but three instead. The first comes with Krem atop him, plowing into him with long, deep thrusts as he shouts so loud any neighbors not out for lunch are sure to hear. The second time Krem takes him from behind and pulls him back onto the unforgiving cock, hard and fast until his legs go out from under him and he grunts senselessly into a pillow with climax. The third arrives with his back to Krem’s chest, the two of them lying on their sides on the bed; Krem’s brawny arm holds him tight while the toy pumps into him slow and deep. Fenris rubs his battered cock while his once-tight hole ripples around the toy, and he lets out a broken moan as his legs shiver and shake.

Krem’s breath comes hot and heavy on the back of his neck. “Fuck. I give in, you’ve tired me out.” He kisses Fenris’s shoulder. “Let’s have a rest, shall we?”

“Unh,” Fenris replies. He’s too exhausted to move; instead he falls asleep with Krem’s hips nestled up against his own, the toy still stuffing his well-fucked hole.


	2. Vivienne

“Straighten your back, darling. Yes, that’s it.”

Fenris finds that Vivienne is right and his posture has begun to falter. He corrects it, standing tall, hands held loosely behind him.

“Chin up,” Vivienne says, with a gracious smile. “Mm. Lovely.”

Fenris lifts his chin a fraction. Surely she can see his pulse jumping against his throat.

Then she gestures lazily with one hand, and he bucks his hips into the air with a moan, ruining his posture all over again.

After his fulfilling but extraordinarily exhausting encounter with Krem, Fenris decided to search for someone who would take a new approach in regards to the number of climaxes they expected from him. Eventually he found Vivienne, who seemed quite interested in the proposition. So here they are. Vivienne lounges in a luxurious, cushioned chair, the skirt of her finely embroidered gown pulled up so she can pleasure herself. One muscular leg is folded up, her foot propped up on the edge of the chair. Meanwhile, Fenris stands before her, legs spread and toes curled into the plush carpet, and fights a hopeless battle to stand up straight.

The task would be much easier were it not for the three devilish toys Vivienne produced after they talked. The first is cock-shaped, and she used it to tease his hole before seating it deep inside him. The second is a plug for his ass. Neither is particularly large, but together the effect is…somewhat more profound. The third is a smooth, U-shaped object which she slid securely over his cock. All three toys are, of course, magical. Those in his hole and on his cock stay in place no matter how much he moves around. And all three, at Vivienne’s command, vibrate.

“Mm—“ Fenris bites his lip and corrects his posture. The vibrations have risen in intensity, and wetness coats his inner thighs, but he will not come until she allows it. If she allows it.

“Having trouble, are you?” Vivienne asks lightly.

“N-no,” Fenris replies. The muscles in his thighs and back tense as he struggles not to thrust at nothing.

“It’s all right. You can tell me if it’s difficult,” Vivienne says, and makes another lazy gesture.

The vibrations intensify. Fenris whines with lips pressed together. To cry out would be unseemly. This time the sensation does not plateau but continues to rise, as Vivienne’s fingers draw invisible shapes in the air. The toy on his cock is particularly maddening, and his hips sway in the air as he tries unconsciously to relieve the pleasure. But of course he can’t. The toy stays just where it is, and he is still not allowed to come.

“Darling, I can see how difficult this is for you.” Vivienne’s eyes roam over his naked body. “Tell me the truth. Is it hard for you to stand up straight?”

“Y—yes, Lady Vivienne,” he confesses. His thighs quiver, and his knees bend inward.

“And why is that?” she asks.

His face warms. “M—my cock, Lady Vivienne…“

“Only your cock?” she presses.

With Krem he had no problem being explicit about what he felt. But Vivienne is a different sort of partner, and faced with her elegant gown, her unwavering gaze, and her demanding instructions, Fenris finds himself embarrassed. Still, she has asked a question, and he must answer. “My—my hole,” he manages. “And my ass.”

“Mm. They feel good, is that it? Perhaps a little _too_ good.”

“Yes,” he admits.

“Thank you for being honest with me. You don’t need to stand anymore, Fenris,” Vivienne says graciously. “You can kneel, or lie on the floor. But you may not touch yourself.”

He thinks of a moment for attempting to stay on his feet, but his legs fail him and he collapses to the carpet. He runs his hands slowly through the fine Orlesian wool, trying to resist the urge to touch himself. That is not allowed. Instead his hips roll against nothing, as if he could fuck himself on the cock filling his hole. But it remains buried deep inside him, humming steadily against his inner walls.

“Look at those hips,” Vivienne observes. “So _desperate.”_

The vibrations intensify. Fenris bends and presses his forehead to the carpet. “Mm—“ He swallows a moan. Certainly _could_ come, if he thought about it for a half-second, but he must not—must ignore the unceasing stimulation of his trapped cock.

He hears Vivienne inhale. “Oh, Fenris,” she murmurs. “Perhaps I should have asked _this_ posture of you instead.”

He realizes that like this—his body folded, forehead pressed to the floor—he is bowing to her, where she is seated comfortably in her embroidered chair. The thought sends a shot of warmth to his groin, and he grasps at the carpet, gritting his teeth against an orgasm he only just manages to hold back.

Then the torment of his cock and holes intensifies again and he cries out, legs splaying wide. Helplessly he thrusts at the air. It’s too much—there’s no way he can keep from coming with the insistent thrumming of the toys inside him, the one hugging his cock.

“Fucking the air,” Vivienne breathes. “You must need to come so badly.”

Fenris whines, focusing all his efforts on keeping from climax. His cock is afire with pleasure, but right now Vivienne owns it and her wishes were clear. He rises to hands and knees and reaches between his legs, massaging his inner thigh as if it might help. It doesn’t.

The vibrations leap in intensity and Fenris’s legs kick out as he shouts in surprise. He collapses again to the carpet, flipping onto one side and curling it up. It doesn’t help. Nothing helps. His cock throbs with need, swollen between his legs but no longer within his control. It belongs to Vivienne.

“Show me your holes,” Vivienne commands.

A firmer tone now. Fenris uncurls, moaning as the thrumming toys stimulate the walls of his taxed holes. With his upper back resting on the floor, he plants his feet and raises his hips, legs spread wide. She can see now, the devilish toys stuffing his cunt and ass and the one clamped over his stiff cock. Fenris hears her inhale. “You may beg me to let you come,” she says, and her voice has a steel edge.

“Please, Lady Vivienne,” Fenris gasps. “Please let me come, I need to— _nngh—“_ His hole is gushing and he reaches down and spreads himself—surely she can see the slick shine coating his inner thighs—

“No,” Vivienne tells him, then lets out a guttural sound from deep in her throat.

Fenris pushes himself up on an elbow to watch her come. Her toes curl over the edge of the chair, the other leg extended as her thigh tenses. With her skirt pulled up he can see her cunt clenching as she rubs herself. Her face is a rapture of ecstasy, and Fenris squeezes his thighs, wishing he were in her place.

After several long seconds she exhales and opens her eyes. Fenris remains where he is, trembling on the carpet, praying for mercy.

“Oh, those toys are still going, aren’t they?” Her smile has a hint of mischief, and she rises.

Fenris stifles a cry and flips on his side again, feet dragging over the carpet. The vibrations are maddening. His holes are a neverending deluge of pleasure, and his tortured cock pulses, captive to Vivienne’s whims.

“Fenris.”

His eyes crack open, and he sees her bare feet before him on the carpet. Another lightning-strike of pleasure from his cock, and he thrusts involuntarily at the air.

“Stand.”

An impossible task, but he desires nothing more than to obey her commands. He pulls his legs in—whines at the shifting inside his ass and cunt—gets his feet flat on the floor and begins to rise.

He fails, of course. His legs are weak and trembling, and another hot swell of arousal makes his knees buckle. But Vivienne catches him, grasping his arms, and helps him to stand. He makes it, finally, and straightens before her. His legs are still shaking and he must lean on Vivienne, who holds him steady. “Fenris,” she says. “I know how badly you need to come.”

Fenris nods with an insensate moan. He can’t form the words to respond. His entire body is beholden to his tormented cock, and he trembles with the overwhelming pleasure, with the effort of keeping himself from orgasm.

“But you’re not going to come tonight,” she tells him. “You’re going to leave here, go back to the Herald’s Rest, and make merry with your friends, all while your stiff cock throbs between your legs and your wetness starts to soak through your smallclothes. Then you’re going to go to bed without touching your cock _once_ , and as you finally fall asleep you’re going to think of me.”

The vibrations fade away. Fenris’s toes curl in the carpet as he realizes the depth of submission Vivienne is asking of him—and he finds himself already rising to it, savoring the still-burning heat in his cock all the more as he internalizes the fact that it will go unrelieved. “Yes, Lady Vivienne,” he manages.

Then he leans into her, which might be too forward, but he needs—something, her touch, her embrace. “That’s it, darling,” she murmurs, pulling him into her. Her body is warm against his, and she takes a moment to kiss his hair before she says, “Here, let’s get these out of you.”

First she works the plug from his ass, and he shivers as it pops out of him. The toy in his hole comes next, then the pressure on his cock disappears and he is free. He reaches down, stroking his inner thigh, still not daring to touch himself. His cock and folds feel swollen and slick between his legs.

“Fenris, you were amazing,” Vivienne says, with a radiant smile. Then she wraps an arm around his waist. “Here, let’s lie down.”

His steps are unsteady, but Vivienne supports him as he walks. She reclines on a white-gold chaise and gestures, and he lies back against her. The sweat coating his back must be ruining her gown but she seems to mind not at all. For a moment they simply lie there. Vivienne’s arms encircle his chest and stomach, and he relaxes into her, enjoying the feeling of being _held._ Now and then a tremble runs through him, but they grow less frequent until he lies lax and spent against her. Under his body her chest rises and falls slowly.

“That was lovely,” she says at last, with a satisfied sigh. “I hope you enjoyed yourself almost as much as I did.”

“Indeed,” Fenris replies. “It was challenging, but…oddly fulfilling.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She runs her fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “Of course, after you leave here you’re free to do whatever you like. I simply rather enjoy the thought of you falling asleep tonight all pent up, because you’ve chosen to submit to me.” He hears the smile in her voice. “Just pretend you did as I said the next time we meet. I’d like to preserve the fantasy.”

“No, I think I will refrain,” Fenris replies. “In truth, I like the feeling.”

“Ooh, you _are_ a delightful partner,” she says. “I hope it wasn’t… _too_ challenging. I did ask quite a lot of you at the end there.”

“No, not at all.” Fenris gazes at the weathered stone ceiling. “I enjoyed testing the limits of my strength, and finding myself up to the task.”

“I was tested too, you know.” Vivienne’s hand runs up his stomach and squeezes his chest. “It was _very_ difficult for me not to touch you. Your cock was extraordinarily tempting.”

The gentle massaging of his chest stokes another thrill between Fenris’s legs, and he moans and shuts his eyes, head lolling against her shoulder. Vivienne chuckles. “My, my, that’s all it takes, does it?”

——

He makes it back to the Herald’s Rest eventually, after Vivienne touched and massaged and kissed almost every inch of him that _wasn’t_ his cock, which throbs with unabated need in his smallclothes as he enters the tavern.

Hawke is playing cards and Fenris catches his eye, and as he picks up two mugs of ale from the barkeep Hawke sidles up beside him. “You were gone for quite a while,” he says.

Fenris finds a quiet table off in the corner and sits, hands one of the mugs to Hawke. “I have just returned from meeting with Vivienne.”

“Mm. Have a good time?” Hawke sips the foam off the top.

Fenris takes a swig. Not as bad as the Hanged Man, but few places are. “She tormented me with inescapable pleasure for a long while but did not allow me to come. In fact, she disallowed it at all for the remainder of the evening.”

Hawke is staring at him over the rim of his mug. Fenris lifts an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Hawke sets the mug down carefully. “So…you must be _terribly_ frustrated.”

“Indeed.”

“Mm.” Hawke jerks his head. “Would you like to join us for some Wicked Grace?”

Fenris’s eyebrow arches higher. “That depends. Are you going to put your hands all over me and so I lose my focus and miss everybody’s tells?”

“Fenris—I would never do that. I’m offended you would even ask.”

He heaves a sigh. “Let’s just get on with it, shall we?”

Hawke, of course, does not even pretend to keep his word. His touches are mostly innocent, but even the brush of his fingertips is like electricity racing over Fenris’s skin. He rubs Fenris’s back, one calloused thumb stroking the nape of his neck; sometimes he leans over and kisses Fenris’s ear. Later in the evening when everybody has a couple of more ales in them he rests his hand on Fenris’s thigh and squeezes slowly, releases, and squeezes again.

Fenris has no ability whatsoever to concentrate and loses every round. He _could_ ask Hawke to stop, but despite the fact that he will not be allowed to come—or perhaps because of it—every touch is a delightful thrill down his spine, and he is fortunate nobody asks after the furious blush that warms his face all evening.

The moon has risen high in the sky before the game concludes. They make their way across the courtyard and through the stone halls, Fenris’s breath coming quicker and shallower than it should. At last they reach their room and as soon as Hawke shuts the door he lets out a sigh. “Oh, Maker. Do you have _any_ idea how much I want to—“

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence because Fenris shoves him up against the wall and pins him there with an aggressive kiss. Hawke returns it eagerly, and their tongues tangle together as they each open themselves to the wanton kiss. Fenris slides his hands under Hawke’s shirt and runs them up his chest, and is rewarded by a long moan into his mouth. Their bodies press together, Hawke’s hips rolling against his, and they reach a rhythm quickly, grinding into each other against the wall.

But this isn’t helping—in fact, it seems only to be making things worse. Fenris breaks away, his cock pulsing with need. “I—we should go to bed,” he says unsteadily.

Hawke groans. “You’re a bastard.”

 _“You’re_ the one who was fondling me all night,” Fenris points out.

“Er.” He falters. “That _is_ true. But Fenris, I _need_ to fuck you. Please.”

“No. It’s not allowed.”

“Maker’s—“ Hawke cuts himself off, eyeing Fenris. “Can I at least—I don’t know. Can I fuck your thighs? Is that allowed?”

Is it? Fenris decides not to think about it for long, lest he decide against it. “Well—I don’t see why not.”

“Oh, thank the fucking Maker.” Hawke immediately begins to disrobe.

Fenris does so as well, and as soon as he’s lain down in bed Hawke’s warmth crawls in behind him as well, and his stiffening cock slides neatly between Fenris’s slick thighs, gliding over his flushed folds.

“Maker’s fucking tits,” Hawke breathes into Fenris’s back. “You feel amazing.”

In less than a minute his hips are pounding into Fenris, cock sawing back and forth between his thighs. Fenris grips the sheets as Hawke fucks into him. Each stroke strums across the tip of his own cock, which might not be allowed, but his resolve not to come remains, and he figures Vivienne might enjoy the thought of his long-denied cock and hole being tormented yet again by the his partner thrusting into his thighs but never entering him.

Fenris endures the rough fucking, the way the bed shakes as Hawke’s hips slam into him. The temptation to tilt his hips just a little and take Hawke inside him is nearly overwhelming. He _needs_ to come, and Hawke’s ardor isn’t helping. But he mustn’t. Tonight, his cock belongs to Vivienne. Hawke wraps an arm around his chest and kisses his neck. “I’m going to fucking come,” he gasps.

“Mm—“ _Come inside me,_ Fenris wants to say, but he keeps his lips pressed together. Hawke growls, squeezing Fenris’s chest as his hips shudder and his cock pumps erratically between Fenris’s legs. Seed pulses out of him and drips down Fenris’s thigh.

It takes a long time for Fenris to drift off to sleep, for the insistent thrum of pleasure in his cock to fade. As he curls up beneath the sheets, he thinks of Vivienne’s radiant smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up is blackwall, i.e. fenris finally gets to top


End file.
